


Something about eyes.

by werewolve



Series: Ineffable Husbands Ficlets [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, crowleys eyes are my favourite thing i'm projecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 17:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20122351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewolve/pseuds/werewolve
Summary: just a soft moment





	Something about eyes.

It was dark out, stars littering the sky. 

Aziraphale and Crowley were spending the evening together in the bookshop. 

It was sweet enough that they were currently dancing (correction- swaying in each others arms) to an old Elvis record Aziraphale had recently been gifted. 

But, of course, there was no situation the angel couldn’t make sweeter. 

He pulled back a little from where he had been resting his head against Crowley’s chest, and scanned the demon’s face with a curious furrow to his brow. 

Crowley looked down at him, raising a brow himself, “Everything okay, Angel?”

“Mhm, of course.” Aziraphale seemed distracted, but still hummed his response, only to very quickly follow it up. “It’s just... may I do something? You trust me, no?”

“Of course I trust you.” Crowley’s lips made a soft smile, and he leaned forward to press them against Aziraphale’s forehead, “Of course.”

Aziraphale smiled himself, before pulling apart from Crowley all together, and reaching his hands up slowly. His fingertips met the cold metal of Crowley’s glasses frame, and he hesitated for a moment to check that Crowley knew, and was okay with, what he was planning to do. 

After the demon showed no resistance, Aziraphale removed the sunglasses from his face, turning to place them on his desk nearby, before quickly turning back to Crowley. 

The demon was now looking at Aziraphale with doe eyes, a soft and curious expression shaping his features. 

The angel reached a hand up to brush Crowley’s hair from his forehead, “I’ll never understand why you cover them.”

“They’re the biggest sign that I fell.” Crowley spoke quietly after a moment, “The biggest reminder of who, by nature, I am. Humans often tend to find things like that rather hideous.”

Aziraphale chewed on his lower lip, shaking his head, “There’s nothing hideous about them. Sure they may show who you are, but who you are is the wily old serpent I met those many years ago in the garden of Eden.”

Crowley placed his hand on the underside of Aziraphale’s forearm, as though to steady himself as the angel traced the apple of Crowley’s cheek with his thumb. 

“I think they’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful?”

“Of course.”


End file.
